<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Caught in the Light with You by orphan_account</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783559">Caught in the Light with You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf Clint Barton, Eventual Smut, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, Multi, Sports, Vampire Clint Barton, Vampire Pietro Maximoff, Vampire Wanda Maximoff, Vampires</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:28:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The high school AU no one asked for. </p>
<p>NF Shield high school got redistricted to Avengers high school. Bucky is from Avengers and falls for a blondie from Shield… how could this ever go wrong?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Banner/Thor, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff/Peter Parker, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Highway to Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an old fic I found that I was in the middle of writing but never finished and I fell in love with it again so I’m rewriting it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Shit Steve, I don’t know what to wear!” Bucky hissed at the phone as he ran his hand through his long brown hair. He stood in front of the mirror shirtless with a pair of worn jeans, going between an electric blue t-shirt that had the mascot of their school on it and a soft old black football shirt. The light cascading through the curtains was just enough for him to see what he was doing but not so much that it caused his head to throb from the light hangover of last night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Blue,” he heard his friend snicker from the other side of the line and he shot a glare in the general direction of his phone, hoping his best friend would see his annoyance. “C’mon buck, you know it’ll match your Varsity jacket. Seriously man, you’re asking me for advice? What’s going on?” Bucky sighed, sliding the shirt on. He tossed the other shirt onto his already made bed, the shirt looking very obviously out of place. He debated hanging it back up but decided against it, knowing it would make a good pajama shirt for after practice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know man, I think I’m just nervous,” he picked up the phone to carry with him, smiling as he saw his friend still in bed. “And you can't give me shit, you’re still in bed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a senior, I’m not supposed to give a shit. Besides, what are you nervous about? It’s just a merge, nothing too big,” Steve commented, Bucky watching as the phone started shaking on his friend's side and listening to his friend grunt across the mic. “Fucking never doing squats ever again, coach can suck my dick,” the phone thumped loudly which was followed by muffled swearing, earning a sharp laugh from Bucky as he put down his phone in the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Bucky smirked, grabbing his hair brush from the counter and began working at the knots in his hair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, but I’ll kiss yours,” Bucky could practically feel his friend wink through the phone and he groaned, rolling his eyes. “By the way, you should put your hair in a braid.” Bucky eyed the camera in surprise to find his friend staring at him intently, eyebrows pulled together before he nodded to himself and continued his own routine. Bucky shrugged before pulling his hair back near the base of his neck and started braiding it, grateful he learned how to do it because of how many times he had to help his mom with his sister. Speaking of the devil...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bucky! It’s my turn to use the bathroom,” Rebecca pounded on the door, causing him to roll his eyes. If she kept this up she wasn’t going to get a ride from him to school.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“One moment Bec!” He called back, pulling the end of his braid into a black scrunchie he had on his wrist.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’d you get that thing anyways?” Steve asked as Bucky fixed his braid. Bucky pulled out a couple of strands of hair from the braid and pulled them in front of his ears, playing with them until he got the curls he wanted from them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I stole it from Bec, makes it easier to reject people until I find-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The right one, right Buck, I’ve heard this a million times,” Steve gasped, grabbing Bucky’s attention as he picked up the phone yet again to bring with him. “Is that why you look so nice? You think your one true love might transfer here today?” Steve questioned, Bucky turning the camera from his face to hide his blush as he opened the bathroom door to see an annoyed little sister. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry Steve, he’s blushing,” she smirked as she pushed past Bucky.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No- Bec! That’s it! No ride to school,” he flushed, earning a laugh from his friend on the phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But Bucky you promised! I don’t wanna look like a loser on my first day of high school ever. Do you know how good my reputation would be if I came into school on my brother’s bike? I’ll be, like, the coolest freshman there!” Bucky groaned, barely stopping himself from running his hand through his hair. Huh, maybe the braid was a good idea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bec, you’re already gonna be popular because you’re my sister, besides, it’s not all about popularity,” he walked away from the bathroom door, stretching. “I gotta go Stevie, see you at school,” he hung up, not even waiting for a goodbye. He walked into his room, grabbing a couple of hair ties and tampons in case a girl needed any on their first day and checked himself out in the mirror one last time before sighing, content with his outfit. He heard his phone buzz and he looked down, barely catching the name ‘Russian spy’ before it turned off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Russian spy</b>
  <span>: hey Steve told me you were nervous, got a crush on the new guy?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He huffed at the text, opening his phone so he could respond.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Winter’s bitch</b>
  <span>: Nat I swear to god not you too</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Russian spy</b>
  <span>: hey I’m the one who told you about him! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Winter’s bitch</b>
  <span>: along with everyone else in our grade, do you know how many girls are gonna be simpin after him? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Russian spy</b>
  <span>: u right…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Winter’s bitch</b>
  <span>: see you at school Nat :,)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Russian spy</b>
  <span>: see you too dumb bitch :’)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed, shaking his head as he grabbed his neatly packed backpack from the worn black leather seat in his room. “So long summer, hello senior year,” he whispered to himself as he shut the door to his room, walking back down the hallway and towards the stairs. He slid down the railing (much to his mother's distaste) and jogged over to her, grabbing his lunch from the counter and putting it in his backpack.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There should be enough food in there for practice,” she commented as she entered the room with a spatula in hand. She was making food for Rebecca most likely, saying how he never really eats in the mornings until he gets to school. “Plus I packed your breakfast in there,” he smiled at his mom, who stood behind the stove fixing up eggs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks mama,” he walked around the counter, giving his mom a kiss on the cheek before heading for the door. He grabbed his keys off the hook next to the front door, pausing to throw a smile over his shoulder, “by the way, Beck was a jerk so she has to ride the bus. Ok bye ma!” He yelled, closing the door before his mom’s sounds of protest could form any words. He jogged over to his bike, grabbing his helmet from the shelf in the garage next to his bike. He put in his headphones before sliding his helmet over his head, kicking up the stand and spinning around his bike. He revved the engine, smiling to himself as he moved the bike forwards out of the driveway and onto the road. He loved living in California, the hot summer rays resting on his shoulders. It would almost be overbearing if it weren’t for the breeze whipping through his jacket and against his body. The smell of salt flooded his nose and he sighed, waves of nostalgia crashing over him like the ocean on a beach. Playing beer pong with his friends, summer campfires and dumb songs, hitting on super hot guys and girls that he stood no chance with. Sure he was waiting for the right person to fall for but in order to do that he had to meet them first, right? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He heard the sound of another motorcycle and his head shot up, shaking away previous thoughts. Ahead of him was a group of four bikes, one was a Harley but the rest were all street bikes like his own. He shot forwards, slowing when he reached near the back. He was shocked when he recognized the bike in the front was none other than Natasha’s, the white highlights on her red bike shining under the sun. He scooted towards the back, catching the man in the back's attention. He was riding a purple bike that somehow fit his look. The man nodded to him and revved his bike a couple of times, catching Nat’s attention. The purple bike nodded towards Bucky, and Natasha nodded in return. The man slid over, giving Bucky room to ride next to him. Bucky took this time to look at the other two bikes in between Natasha and the purple bike. The first one was another red bike, the girl on it wearing a brown leather jacket and her hair was falling out in strands in the back. Her long brown locks bounced around in the wind, causing Bucky to smile. His hair would probably be doing that too if he hadn’t pulled it into a braid. The bike to her right was a silver Harley, seating two people. The boy on the back was holding tight to the boy on front, who didn’t seem to mind at all. He wanted to get a better look at the man next to him but all too soon they hit the road leading into the school. He expected the others to break off but they didn’t, following one another as they turned into the student parking lot. Bucky turned down the first row of parking spots with Natasha, pouting when the other three continued a couple rows down. He slid smoothly into his spot, kicking down the stand and stopping the engine. “Natasha!” He called out, kicking down his stand and sliding off his bike. He pulled off his helmet, shaking his head to loosen the hair plastered to his scalp and looked around. He caught a flash of red and white hair and he jogged over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you liked our little ride?” She asked, leaning against a large pick up truck that belonged to Steve. The others were sitting in the trunk, laughing. They were there half an hour early, which wasn’t unusual saying this was the only time they were able to hang out because of their busy schedules. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually, yeah. I didn’t know you did that,” Bucky shrugged, walking towards the back of the truck. He set his backpack in the bed, stretching out the kinks in his back from the ride. “I’m kinda excited to meet all the new kids this year, hopefully they’ll be a benefit to the football team,” Bucky commented aloud, getting murmurs of agreement from the others.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard Pietro is ungodly fast, and Clint has a perfect throw, like this kid never misses,” Sam noted, hitting his vape. Bucky held his hand out, causing Sam to roll his eyes before passing it. “It’s strawberry,” Sam quickly added, causing Bucky to smile. Strawberry was his favorite. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re also getting a lot of smart kids, like Bruce,” T’challa suddenly appeared behind Bucky, causing him to jump. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Every fucking time,” Bucky growled but was ignored as Steve added into the conversation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard we’re getting Shuri, Tony, and Peter as well.” Bucky breathed in while Natasha spoke, the taste of strawberry invading his mouth and lungs. He held it in his lungs for a moment before breathing out, taking another hit. He sat in the bed in the truck, basking in the buzz he felt in his hands and feet. Steve reached for it but Bucky pulled it away, giving it back to Sam. Steve let out a sound of complaint but Bucky shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You plus this thing is an asthma attack ready to happen. Besides, I’ll buy you whisky next week you Irish bitch,” he scolded, the man grumbling as he picked up a football. Bucky climbed out of the truck, already aware of where this was going.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Buck, go long!” He heard Steve yell but he had already shot forwards, turning around to catch a ball a little too high. He jumped up, stumbling slightly as he landed with the ball in his hands. He was grateful he was still on his feet or that would have been embarrassing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You still need to work on your aim!” Bucky yelled to the blond man, who turned a little red. He threw it back to the blond, ball arching perfectly into the man’s hands. The taller man rolled his eyes, throwing again. Bucky only needed to take a step forward to catch that one. “Better!” He called back, his friend beaming in pride. Even though Steve was the kicker he still had a hell of an arm. He was probably going to be one of the backup quarterbacks, at least if he didn’t make kicker this year. Then again, he always made kicker. Bucky was about to throw the ball back when a loud laughter to his left caught him off guard. He saw a tall blond guy, possibly taller than Steve (who just shot up from 5’4” to 6’ cause of his growth spurt) walking backwards towards him. He was wearing a very familiar black leather jacket with jeans and purple chucks that had designs… arrows? On them. He was surrounded by a bunch of people who seemed to be laughing at whatever he was saying. One of them must’ve gotten mad because he shoved the tall blond forwards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky felt everything slow as he watched the man stumble into the middle of the row of cars and right into the path of a car charging towards him. Bucky did the only thing he could think of doing, he lunged forwards and tackled him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Stairway to Heaven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m probably going to update once a week, I only updated so much today because I had it written already</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clint was pretty sure he was dead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least, that would explain why an extremely attractive guy was now straddling his lap. The one thing he wasn’t sure about was whether he was in heaven or hell because the boy above him had the face of innocence but the body of temptation. He had stormy gray eyes… or were they blue? with long black eyelashes that practically brushed his cheeks, confusion and concern written in them as clear as day. He noticed the man’s mouth moving, empty motions that caused Clint to realize his hearing aids must’ve been knocked loose. He sat up quickly, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment before looking around for the small purple mechanical devices. He smiled triumphantly as he found them on the ground next to his shoulder, sliding them into his ears with a sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you ok?” The guy had shifted off his lap but was still kneeling next to him, eyes intense as they examined his face. Physically he was ok but mentally he was still trying to register what had happened. He remembered walking next to his younger siblings, teasing Pietro about dying his hair and was shoved forwards into the middle of the road between parking spots. He had looked up in time to see the car barreling towards him and then he was on the ground. Clint opened his mouth to respond to his apparent savior but was cut off by an angry red head storming towards him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw shit,” he managed to mutter as Natasha pulled him to his feet (with a surprising display of strength might he add) and slapped the back of his head. He felt his hearing aids jar loose and he let out an embarrassing cry of protest, placing his hands over his aids. He had lost multiple hearing aids this way and wasn’t going to allow his favorite ones to meet the same fate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“дурак! You could have gotten yourself killed! Jesus Christ Clint! Look where you’re going!” She hissed, smacking his arm with a glare that left everyone else in shock with a healthy touch of fear. Clint just rolled his eyes, shrugging it off like he always had. “You’re going to be the death of me, I hope you know that,” she added, hitting him one last time before pulling him into a hug, “I did miss you though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I missed you too, sorry I couldn’t hang out over summer, Iowa…” he let the sentence trail off like it explained everything, which it had to her. She just nodded, her eyes softening for a split second before returning to their normal sharp stare. That was one of the few things he loved about her. It had taken her a while but she had eventually opened up to Clint, the long night conversations on the roof of her house while drinking vodka and talking about anything and everything were very few, but they were special to her, the few times where she felt safe enough to talk about her past to anyone aside from her family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, what just happened?” Tony broke the silence, Clint turning to him suddenly. In all honesty he forgot that the shorter man was there, eyes turning between Natasha and Clint. “Clint, did you have a secret girlfriend and just not tell us about her or did you forget-“ Natasha and Clint both gagged at the thought, shaking their heads rapidly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! God no! Natasha is like a sister to me!” He said, disgust still plastered on his face. He couldn’t even begin to imagine her like that, not even from the first day they met. He remembered it so vividly, seeing this curly haired girl walk up to him during his first day of recess in third grade. She looked him up and down before smiling, nodding to herself before saying ‘you'll do’ and dragging him over to the fence where they both managed to sneak out. He smiled at the memory before shaking it away, clearing his voice to speak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys, this is Natasha, my best friend since God knows how long and who I’ve been hiding because of the amount of blackmail she has on me.” He saw her smirk at the last part, his brain beginning to register how bad of an idea this was. “Natasha, these are my friends, Tony, the Italian with a Napoleon complex,” he heard a sound of protest but he ignored it, continuing down the line of people, “his younger but kinder brother Peter,” the boy smiled and waved shyly, “his boyfriend and my younger brother Pietro,” Pietro grabbed Peter’s hand protectively but gave a lazy smirk and wave, “his twin sister and my little sister Wanda,” she moved out from behind Clint to give a soft smile, “the smartest person I know and the meme queen Shuri,” Shuri nodded approvingly at her introduction, “Rhodes, who can probably kick my ass without breaking a sweat,” Rhodey chuckled at that as Clint walked over to Bruce, throwing his arm around his friends shoulders, “and last but not least is Bruce, genius with some secret hidden strength we haven’t figured out yet.” Bruce shrugged him off with a light chuckle, shaking his head at the blonde.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, since you introduced your friends I might as well introduce mine,” Natasha leaned back on her heels, motioning her friends to come towards them. Clint caught eyes with short, dark, and handsome and looked away, a gentle blush creeping up his cheeks. “The one who looks like he could be your brother from another mother is Steve, his best friend with the braid is Bucky, the one fiending off his vape is Sam, the man next to him wearing Gucci is T’challa, and the ungodly buff blonde is Thor,” she explained as she went down the line, earning remarks of annoyance that caused Clint to chuckle. “Guys, this is Clint, my best friend and probably the greatest shot you’ll ever meet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Debatable,” he heard a small scoff and he was surprised to find it had come from… Bucky? Yeah, Bucky’s mouth. Clint stared at the man in shock for a moment, the emotion clearing echoed on all his friends' faces. In all his years on this planet he hadn't heard anyone challenge him, but then again, he loved a good challenge. He looked over, trying to find a target to prove his shot when he landed on a familiar face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, five bucks says I can hit Peter Quill’s sunglasses off his face without touching him using a quarter from here,” he extended his hand to Bucky, the man taking it and shaking it with no hesitation. Clint did the calculations in his head, adjusting the angle of the throw with the wind before letting the quarter fly true, not even watching as the quarter flew through the air. He waited for a moment, the split second nerves of his math being wrong beginning to get to him until heard a sharp clatter and a high pitched scream of shock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damnit Clint!” He heard the man yell and he looked over to, sure enough, see the sunglasses now resting on the pavement, one of the red lenses shattered and reflecting the bright California sun. Rocket was there laughing with Drax and Gamora had a light humored grin on her face. Peter was red in frustration but there wasn’t a mark on his face. Clint let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and looked back at Natasha’s friends to see their faces of pure awe and disbelief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How, I… but,” Sam stuttered, his eyes still fixed on the scene before turning towards Clint, “you gotta teach me how to do that man! You know how much shit I could get away with if I knew how to do that!?” Clint laughed, basking in the shock on their faces. “Hey man give me your phone, after a shot like that I need someone like you around,” Clint handed over his phone, watching as Sam typed in his phone number. Sam handed the phone back and Clint watched as his friends slowly began to merge into Natasha’s, laughter ringing proudly between all of them. It was different but nice, seeing two groups of people easily become one, easy smiles and quick jokes and numbers being exchanged among all of them. Clint was about to drift back to Natasha when Bucky stepped in front of him, a scowl written across his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I call fowl play but here,” Bucky grumbled as he extended a five dollar bill to Clint. Clint debated taking it for a moment before handing his phone to Bucky instead, enjoying the confusion on the man’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As much as I like money, I think your phone number would be a better payment,” Clint winked, earning a genuine snort from the shorter man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And Steve thought I was bad,” the brunette smiled, eyes glowing gently in the sunlight. It took everything in Clint’s power to not gush over the shorter man, instead opting for a shrug as the man out in his phone number, handing the phone back with a nod. Clint wanted to say something else but the five minute bell rang, the group looking between one another with panic before grabbing their backpacks and sprinting into the school in fear of being late on their first day. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Russian Spy has created a chat</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Russian Spy has added Accipiter, Winter’s Bitch, America’s Ass, Scarlet Letter, Toner, Thunder, Falco, nyOOM, Arachninsomnia, Here’s Brucie, King B, and Da Way</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Accipiter named the chat Fuck Highschool</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>America’s ass: </b>
  <span>language</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Accipiter:</b>
  <span> English?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Toner: </b>
  <span>Clit I-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Toner: </b>
  <span>****CLINT</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Falco: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Scarlet letter: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Da Way: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Winter’s Bitch: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Russian Spy: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>King B: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thunder: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Accipiter: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Here’s Brucie: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Arachninsomnia: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>nyOOM: </b>
  <span>Clit</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Toner: </b>
  <span>throwing myself out the window is looking more and more tempting every minute </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b><em>Accipiter</em> <em>changed</em> <em>their</em> <em>name</em> <em>to</em> <em>Clit</em></b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <b>Clit: </b>
  <span>WAIT TONY NO PLEASE SIT BACK DOWN</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. We didn’t start the fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok I may possibly be addicted to writing this fic</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bucky had to admit, second block was officially his favorite class. Not only did it have all of his friends in the class, both old and new, but the teacher really didn’t give a damn. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“This class isn’t required to graduate and I know all of you here just needed a class to fill your schedules and I have grades to do so as long as you do the warmups and are quiet you will pass. Other than that, do whatever you want,” Mr. Pym had said yesterday before returning to whatever he was tinkering with on his desk, the rest of the class moving to their seats.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was only the second day and Bucky had already begun to merge into Natasha’s group of friends, sitting at his table with Natasha, Wanda, and Sam. Clint was sitting at the table to his left, talking to Steve, Thor, and Pietro. Bruce, Tony, T’challa, and Rhodey we’re to his right, and behind them were Shuri and Peter. Bucky felt his phone buzz again and he returned his attention to the rapidly moving group chat that was displayed on his phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Fuck Highschool</b>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Arachninsomnia: </b>
  <span>may I ask one more time… how did we all get put into the same class?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Falco: </b>
  <span>my money’s on Nat</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>America’s Ass: </b>
  <span>Nat most likely</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Thunder: </b>
  <span>probably Natasha</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Russian Spy: </b>
  <span>actually… no</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>King B: </b>
  <span>wait w a t?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit: </b>
  <span>hehe umm…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Toner: </b>
  <span>Clint what did you do?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit</b>
  <span>: ok ok here me out</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Winter’s Bitch: </b>
  <span>*hear</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit</b>
  <span>: fuck off</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit: </b>
  <span>anyways I saw our schedules and we had like… 0 classes together and I didn’t want this year to be boring so I kinda moved everyone’s classes around so we at least had someone we knew in every class</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Falco: </b>
  <span>how’d you get into the office tho???? It’s locked every day</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit: </b>
  <span>vents</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky turned around slowly, giving the blonde man behind him a look of shock. Clint smirked in return, giving him an easy shrug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>nyOOM: </b>
  <span>he does that a lot</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>America’s Ass: </b>
  <span>how does he even fit????</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit:</b>
  <span> I was in the circus for a while so…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Toner: </b>
  <span>damn imagine being that flexible</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit:</b>
  <span> hey it gets me laid so I’m not complaining</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky held back a snort, listening to the chorus of snickers around him. They all dropped their phones to their lap as their teacher looked up, shaking his head before continuing his work. Bucky immediately picked back up his phone, continuing to read the chat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Winter’s Bitch: </b>
  <span>btw Natasha can I change my name?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Russian Spy: </b>
  <span>why?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Winter’s Bitch: </b>
  <span>because this is my Christmas nickname that you never changed back and I wanna go back to my old name</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Russian Spy: </b>
  <span>yeah sure</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Russian Spy gave Winter’s Bitch admin rights</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Winter’s Bitch changed their name to Thighs of Betrayal</b>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>thank you</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal changed America’s Ass to Captain Dorito</b>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Captain Dorito: </b>
  <span>BUCKY NO</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Falco: </b>
  <span>DO YOU STILL HAVE THE PICTURE </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>HAHAHHAH YESSSSSS</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Scarlet Letter: </b>
  <span>what is going on</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Here’s Brucie: </b>
  <span>^</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Toner: </b>
  <span>^</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Arachninsomnia: </b>
  <span>^</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Da Way: </b>
  <span>^</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>nyOOM: </b>
  <span>^</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit: </b>
  <span>^</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>King B: </b>
  <span>BROKEN WHITE BOI SEND IT</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal sent </b>
  <b>
    <em>CaptainDorito.jpeg </em>
  </b>
  <b>to the chat</b>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Captain Dorito: </b>
  <span>BUCKY NOOOOOOO</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Clit: </b>
  <span>NDMWKJDJS HAHAHHAHAHA HOLY S H I T</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Scarlet Letter: </b>
  <span>IM WHEEZING</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Russian Spy: </b>
  <span>GUYS BE QUIET WE'RE GONNA GET IN TROUBLE</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Da Way: </b>
  <span>I DONT CARE THIS IS TOO PURE</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Arachninsomnia: </b>
  <span>HOWD YOU EVEN THINK OF THAT</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Falco:</b>
  <span> EVERYONE HUDDLE AROUND ITS STORY TIME</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky smiled at the text, leaning forwards so he could hear Sam. He heard a shuffle behind him and turned to see Clint scratching the back of his head, a nervous tick that Bucky had picked up on relatively quickly. “I um, I can’t really hear from where I was sitting…” he began quietly, Bucky registering what he said before scooting over, patting the half empty seat. He watched as Clint’s eyes lit up, a dopey smile crossing his face as he sat down beside him, their thighs flush against one another. He felt Clint throw his arm around the back of the seat to keep himself stable, Bucky taking advantage to lean into it slightly. He caught Natasha’s eyes, her eyebrows moved up slightly in a look of interest before a simple smile appeared on her lips. ‘Заткнись’ he mouthed to her, no real heat behind the words. She just kept grinning as the others grabbed chairs or shared with others, adjusting so they could all hear the story. When they were all seated Sam cleared his throat, launching into the story.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So this all started around freshman year, when Steve, Bucky and I had just met. Those two had known each other for a while but Steve liked me and next thing I knew I had to protect this scrawny kid with the help of short and brooding,” Bucky rolled his eyes at the nickname, earning a smile from his friend as he continued, “but anyways, Steve was this super scrawny, asthmatic, five foot four child who would always pick fights and lose, and for all of freshman year we had to watch over him, and then all the sudden sophomore year hits and he’s built like a fucking tank. Bucky and I were confused as shit but went along with it, watching as the people who bullied him last year would pointedly avoid him. But anyways, one day we were sitting at lunch, talking when Bucky grabbed his chips. They were the cool ranch Doritos and we got into an argument about which ones were better-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Which is cool ranch,” Bucky threw in, earning a glare from Sam.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Splash splash your opinion is trash, but anyways. Steve was basically done with our shit so he stood up to throw his food away. Bucky was holding up the chip perfectly so that, from a distance, Steve had the exact same chest to waist ratio as a fucking Dorito. I made Bucky hold the chip as I took the picture and we fucking lost it, sending it to Natasha who proceeded to share it with the entire school,” Sam concluded the story, the others stick chuckling at the end. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I still remember the story of you getting a concussion and being convinced that Bucky and I were doppelgängers that we’re trying to steal your virginity,” Steve retaliated, Bucky letting out a muffled laugh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I had an excuse! It was a concussion!” Sam cried, Bucky feeling the man next to him shake in laughter. He had a hand over his mouth and his eyes were crinkled, the sharp blues practically glowing with joy. Bucky looked away in an attempt to sooth his racing heart, resuming his attention to the conversation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t you get that concussion from hitting your head on the top of the door frame?” Bucky added in, the group falling silent before exploding with laughter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Quiet down,” Mr. Pym warned, the group trying and failing pathetically to silence their giggles. Bucky’s cheeks were hurting by the time he had managed to calm down, managing to catch his breath for a moment before watching as Clint fell out of his side of the chair, his laughter returning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you do that?” Bucky wheezed, trying to help Clint up but slipping as well, ending up on the floor next to Clint. The two looked at one another before their giggles returned, the others watching them in amusement. Bucky stood after a moment, ignoring his aching tailbone as he reached down to pull Clint up, the man smiling gratefully and taking his hand. He pulled Clint up, thinking before taking a seat. He patted his lap, watching Clints expressions change from confusion to shock and finally shyness. “Hey if it’s uncomfortable you don’t have to, I just thought it would be easier…” Bucky trailed off, biting his lip. He didn’t mean to make the man uncomfortable, shit that was the last thing he meant to do, and if-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no don’t worry, I’m just scared I’m gonna crush your short legs,” the man snarked, Bucky staring at him in disbelief. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Bucky is known to have the “Thighs of Betrayal” for a reason,” Thor put quotations around the words, the others staring at Thor in interest Bucky groaned. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Story time?” Clint asked as he slid onto Bucky’s thighs, shooting him a smirk. Bucky rolled his eyes in response, surprised by how light the man was, then again, he always wore loose clothing that didn’t really fit, reminding him of young Steve. He was startled from the thought, however, when Clint suddenly gasped, grabbing his phone quickly. “We forgot to add Rhodey to the group chat!” He flustered, Rhodey turning to them all in betrayal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys had a group chat without me?! You mother fuckers!!” Rhodey huffed, causing Bucky to smile in amusement. Yeah, second block was definitely his favorite</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Thunderstruck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clint ran a hand through his short hair, attempting to give it some volume after being plastered to his head from the sweat inside his helmet. He was grateful that Tony had made his inner ear aids waterproof or they would have short circuited within the first fifteen minutes of tryouts. The evening breeze felt nice against his skin as he pulled his shirt off, resting his hands on the neckline of his padding. His right and left arms were both sore in a good way, the offensive coach wanting to test him after he had offhandedly admitted he was ambidextrous. “Everyone in!” The head coach, Fury, called, Clint breaking into a slight jog along with those around him. He caught Bucky’s eye and headed over to him, finding himself next to Bucky, Pietro, and Steve. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had only known Bucky and Steve for a week but he already thought of them as friends. Bucky had joined their little riding group in the mornings on the way to school, both of them riding side by side listening to Clint's music. He ate lunch with Steve and Sam, both of them finding more difficult displays of accuracy to test him with. He shared physics with T’challa, both of them constantly complaining about how much of a pushover the teacher was. He shared four block English with Thor, partnering with him on their first project. He was surprised that they all accepted him so quickly but then again his friends had done the same, offering rides and homework answers and already making plans to go to the mall this weekend. He gave Steve a small nod and ruffled Pietro’s hair with a smile as the coach spoke up, gaining his attention. “Well tonight is the final night of tryouts and I thank everyone who came out. We had a larger turnout than I expected this year due to the redistricting bullshit which also means the main team has changed,” the team murmured quietly, tension growing in the crowd. Clint realized that a lot of the seniors here have played with one another for years, so having someone like Clint come in and possibly take their position was a threat. “And as you know, I’m not one to make you guys stay longer than you need to be here because I want to go home so let’s reveal the positions. If you have a problem or think you can do better, then work your ass off and prove it, don’t complain to me.” Fury grabbed a white binder with laminated pages inside of it that Clint could only assume was the playbook.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clint Barton, get up here,” the one eyed man called, the team staring at him. Clint felt his heart stop, his feet forcing him forwards towards Fury. He felt the bile building in the back of his throat, praying to whatever god was out there that he wouldn’t be the first player kicked off the team. He wasn’t leader material, shit he was far from it. He was a mess and he knew that this only meant that he was going to be taken of the team. But why was it so public, why didn’t they just list the people who made the team and let the others accept that they hadn’t made it. He stopped in front of him, the team to his back and his thoughts buzzing wildly in his head. “I know you’ve been playing for a long time at Shield and a lot of the players here have been spending most of their high school careers trying to injure you, but I feel like you will be able to lead this team well this year, possibly get us a state championship. You think you can be our Varsity quarterback?” Clint opened his mouth in shock, catching Sam and Thor’s stares. They were both nodding rapidly, thumbs up. Clint nodded back, still weighing what the man had said, meeting Fury’s stare once  again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would be honored coach, I won’t let you down,” he replied, shaking Fury’s hand as the man handed him the playbook. The man clutched his hand harder, catching Clint off guard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you won’t, I picked you for a reason,” Fury’s quiet words were still ringing loudly in his head as he turned around, staring at the team, </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>team. It was a mixture of looks of approval, confusion, and disgust, but mostly the first. Clint felt awkward, hand raising to scratch the back of his head when he heard a whoop from the back. Clint flushed to see Pietro cheering for him, Steve and Bucky joining quickly and the rest of the team soon after. Clint walked back to his spot, earning a warm smile from Steve and Bucky clapping a hand on his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna share that book, right?” Steve whispered, Clint laughing quietly in response. He remembered Bucky saying something about Steve being the backup quarterback because some asshole named Brock convinced Fury that he shouldn’t be the main quarterback due to his asthma.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rogers! I see you laughing, get your ass up here!!” Fury shouted, Steve’s face immediately paling as he jogged over to the coach. The team whistled and whooped as he ran up, Clint, Pietro, and Bucky all shared a guilty but content look as Steve stood in front of Fury, hand twitching. “You already know what position you’re getting, I just wanted to embarrass you in front of everyone, now go back,” the group laughed, Steve grumbling something about ‘the minute he turned 18 he could legally kick Fury’s ass…’ Fury pulled out a clipboard which seemed to have a list on it, reading off names as he went. A lot of them were people Clint didn’t know, some were some really good players from his old team, and then he got to the wide receivers. “Pietro Maximoff, Bucky Barnes, and Sam Wilson,” he called, all three of them shaking one another and high fiving each other. “Alright, you guys can calm down,” Fury shook his head, the group quieting until he finished the list. The team was giving gentle congratulations to one another, a few kids Clint hadn’t even met shaking his hand warmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck coach, what about me?” A brunette stepped forwards, cross and flame tattoos visible up his arms. Clint felt his stomach drop as the man’s friends glared at Clint, knowing what was about to go down. Saying how Clint and Steve had taken the positions for quarterback, Clint could only guess that the man was Rumlow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t work hard enough Brock, it’s no one's fault but your own. You were also concerned about Steve being the main quarterback so Clint just beat your spot. I’m sorry,” Fury replied, shrugging it off like he was just another person, which Brock apparently didn’t like. Brock turned towards him, rage growing with every word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coach how can you expect your team to be run by a deaf fag!” Brock growled, the words hitting a little too close to home. Steve began to step forwards but Clint put out his hand, a smirk crossing his face. He had been told that he had no self preservation at all, which wasn’t a lie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I took the only thing that made you somewhat noticeable in your high school career, which will most likely be the highlight of your life with where you’re going,” Clint responded, Brock’s face falling. Clint basked in the quiet ‘oh shit’s’ and ‘oooo’s’ from the group for a moment before he felt a fist collide with his nose, a hollow sound filling his ears. He felt a large flash of pain and stumbled backwards into Thor who steadied him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright break it up! Locker rooms and go home!” Fury demanded, the group grudging dispersing. Clint reached up to his nose, cursing as he felt it bent out of shape. It was throbbing in pain, the purple band-aid on his nose pulling in one place and was loose on the other. He felt a trickle of liquid roll thickly from his nose and he rolled eyes, wiping the maroon liquid from his lips and jaw.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, nose, no…” he sighed defeatedly, slumping as Thor laughed. He was glad he didn’t yelp, which was a regular response to someone breaking his nose. He winched at the thought, realizing he had it happen so often he could call his responses regular. That was a little fucked up, huh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I take it this happens a lot?” Thor asked, almost like he could read Clint’s mind. Clint managed a weak smile, not really wanting to talk about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I really need to get out of trouble, I’m just too clumsy,” Clint shrugged, earning a low growl from Bucky. He twisted to the man suddenly, the sound surprising him. Ever since he met Bucky he had been kind, with a sarcastic and fatalistic touch of humor. He was the last person Clint expected to be the protective type, and yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t call Rumlow’s fist connecting with your nose “clumsy”. What were you thinking? I already have one reckless blonde to look after, I don’t need another!” Bucky looked exasperated, voice growing in pitch  and Clint couldn’t help but laugh, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’m surprised he went this long without getting punched,” Pietro pitched in, Clint shooting a light glare in his brother's direction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The death of me! That’s what you two are going to be! Between you and Steve I’m going to be found dead in a ditch cleaning up one of your messes!” Bucky threw up his hands, the group now joining Clint in laughter at the short flustered man in front of them, face getting redder by the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, you’re cute when you’re mad,” Clint joked, watching as the man froze before turning a dark red, Steve laughing loudly at his best friend. He expected the man to ignore it, not get as flustered as he did. That was definitely going to be placed in his memory bank for future blackmail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” he muttered as he bit his lip, Clint pulling the man closer to him so his arm was around Bucky’s shoulders. He enjoyed the soft blush on the man’s cheeks, it was a good look on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, let’s go get some ice cream and celebrate, we earned it,” Steve smiled, Clint and Pietro sharing a nervous look. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll text dad, he’s more likely to listen,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pietro signed to Clint who nodded. The others looked between them in interest, Clint blowing it off. He waited for Pietro to sigh in relief and nod before he spoke again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Last one there has to pay!” Clint said suddenly before taking off, the others squawking in shock before taking off behind him, Clint and Pietro pouring in all their energy to stay in front of the others. In the end Steve had to pay because his truck was slow and he blamed it on asthma and that running wasn’t fair, but Clint didn’t mind, at least he got purple sprinkles.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Your Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bucky woke up with a groan, his body sore from yesterday. He briefly debated rolling back over and allowing the soft maroon comforter that was draped half hazardly over his body to lull him back to sleep before remembering the plans they had made in the group chat a couple of days before. He heard a familiar buzz and picked up the phone from the table, seeing the already growing number of notifications from the chat room. He opened his phone, lazily swiping through the messages.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Fuck Highschool</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Clit changed their name to Hawkeye</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Rocky Rhodes: </b>
  <span>I see the name has followed you</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>I CANT GET AWAYY FROM IT</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>nyOOM: </b>
  <span>LMAO</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Captain Dorito: </b>
  <span>What’s the significance of the name?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Scarlet Letter: </b>
  <span>it was his old nickname from Shield</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>it haunts me wherever I go</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Da Way: </b>
  <span>ew, Shield</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Arachninsomnia: </b>
  <span>home of bigotry </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>nyOOM: </b>
  <span>so glad we left</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Here’s Brucie:</b>
  <span> only reason their sports team was good was because of Clint and Pietro</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Toner: </b>
  <span>bro they were unstoppable</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thunder: </b>
  <span>sorry for body slamming you Pietro</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>nyOOM: </b>
  <span>you gave me a concussion, it was a scary day</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Falco: </b>
  <span>btw is everyone good for the mall today?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>it’s raining so idk if I can come</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Russian Spy: </b>
  <span>I’m sure someone can give you a ride</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>I need one as well, ma won’t let me ride my bike in the rain</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Captain Dorito: </b>
  <span>I’ve got room in my car for you guys</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>are we going to have to lay in the truck bed?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Captain Dorito: </b>
  <span>...possibly</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>sign me up, I crave Death™</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal:</b>
  <span> mood</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Captain Dorito: </b>
  <span>aight I’ll pick up the Barton’s first</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Scarlet Letter: *</b>
  <span>Barton and Maximoffs</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>King B: </b>
  <span>??</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>nyOOM</b>
  <span>: FOSTER CARE BOISSSSSS</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>I- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>Pietro no</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Scarlet Letter: </b>
  <span>Pietro you don’t just tell people that</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Russian Spy: </b>
  <span>lmao it’s good, I’m adopted</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Arachninsomnia: </b>
  <span>my parents are dead</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>King B: </b>
  <span>Oop</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Captain Dorito: </b>
  <span>Anyways! What time are we going?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Toner: </b>
  <span>LMAO STEVE</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Rocky Rhodes: </b>
  <span>how bout 11?</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky looked at the time and sighed. It was only nine but knowing Steve he would be there at least an hour early. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>alright lemme ask my ma</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled out of bed, forcing himself to walk forwards out of the room and towards the stairs. He heard his ma humming happily, putting a smile on his own face. She wasn’t always in a good mood since his dad passed, faking it most days, but those few moments where she was genuinely happy were the best. He walked into the kitchen to find her watering the plant, looking up when he entered the room. “Hey ma, is there anything you need me to-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wanna go out with your friends, don’t you?” She asked, causing Bucky to smile wider.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Steve’s probably gonna pick me up at ten to go to the mall with some friends, is that ok?” He asked. She smiled before nodding, Bucky giving her a hug before racing up the stairs. He looked around in his closet, thanking his past self for organizing it as he looked through the shirts. After a good forty five minutes of debating and lazing around in his room he ended up wearing a maroon polo and his well worn black ripped jeans, the material slightly stretched around his thighs. He hated that his coach made them do squats as a punishment but damn did they make his ass look good. He chuckled at the thought, shoving it to the back of his mind as his fingers instinctively grabbed for the scrunchie on his desk. His hand faltered, left half reaching for the soft circle. He knew that if he didn’t put it on, the entire school would rumor about his “break up” and yet he didn’t mind, leaving it where it was on the desk. He was only going out with friends, it’s not like any of them didn’t know his secret. He left his room and headed towards the bathroom, brushing out his slightly knotted hair. He reached out to grab his concealer when he heard a knock on the door, causing him to huff. He walked back to his room, grabbing his wallet off the desk before heading down the stairs into the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye mama,” he kissed his mom's cheek, the woman smiling with a shake of her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t stay out too late,” she said as he headed for the door. “And if you’re going to stay the night at Steve’s, text me first!” She called after him as he opened the door, Bucky yelling a “yes ma’am!” Over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him, raising his hand against the light drizzle. He saw Clint in the back motioning for him excitedly to hurry and he broke into a sprint, placing his hand on the side of the bed and hurdling himself into the truck. He landed face first on the man’s chest, hearing an audible ‘oof’ from the man. He looked up with a shy smile, the man’s eyes a vivid blue against the gray sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take me out to dinner first,” Clint joked, earning a loud laugh from Bucky as he rolled off the man, cheeks feeling slightly heated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does shitty mall food count?” Bucky replied while smacking the window separating the cab from the bed. Steve put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway, the wild movement causing both Clint and Bucky to grab their sides of the bed to keep themselves stable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does he always drive like this?” Clint asked, face slightly pale and worried. Bucky laughed, almost falling forwards as Steve shifted the car back into forwards and began down the road. They were going towards the rain, the speed creating a pocket of windless air for the two in the back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I haven’t fallen out yet though so I don’t mind.” Bucky responded, earning a confused look from Clint. He then realized that the man didn’t have his aids in, instead they were resting snuggly in a small container in his lap. Bucky held up a finger before typing it out in the chat.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>Steve always drives like this, I haven’t fallen out yet tho so I can’t really complain</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>well that’s reassuring</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>nyOOM: </b>
  <span>Steve said “please don’t fall out, I don’t want to be liable”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>now I kinda want to fall out</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>which mall are we going to?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Scarlet Letter: </b>
  <span>he says the one that’s an hour away</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>north, south, or East lmao</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Russian Spy: </b>
  <span>East</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>alright cool</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Da Way: </b>
  <span>you cannot complain, my big brother is literally going 60 in a 30 weRE GONNA DIE</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Arachninsomnia: </b>
  <span>HELP US</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>King B: </b>
  <span>you’ll be fine</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Da Way: </b>
  <span>THE ROAD THE ROAD EYES ON IT</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Arachninsomnia: </b>
  <span>dear lord please let this be a quick death</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky snickered at the chat before grabbing his headphones from his pocket before looking at Clint. The man was still focused on the chat, smiling at the notifications and quick messages being typed out. Bucky pulled his eyes away from the taller man before typing out a message.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal &gt; Hawkeye</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>hey can you use headphones while using your hearing aids or…</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw Clint click on the message, reading it for a moment before looking at him in interest. He furiously typed a message in return, playing with his hands nervously as Bucky went to read it.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>no but my aids can connect to Bluetooth due to Tony</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>Tony made those?? That’s really cool</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>ikr!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>you think you could sync up to my music?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>hell yeah, whatcha playin?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>classic rock</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>BET</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky chuckled, handing his phone to Clint. The man fiddled with the settings for a moment before handing it back, Bucky connecting his own headphones before turning on the music. He sighed, leaning back against the cab of the truck as the familiar melody of “Your love” played gentle through the headphones, the two in the back nodding along to the beat. Bucky pulled out his vape from his back pocket, taking a few long hits and allowing the tingle to take over his body. He held it up for Clint, who smiled gratefully before taking the longest hit he had ever seen someone take. He stared at the man in shock, causing Clint to look at his lap before handing it back. Bucky opened his phone after a few attempts before typing out a somewhat legible message to the group chat.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Fuck Highschool</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>YOOOOO CLINT IS A GOD</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>nyOOM: </b>
  <span>what happened?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>lmao that was nothing</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal:</b>
  <span> I- BITCH WHAT</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Scarlet Letter: </b>
  <span>did you let Clint fiend off your vape?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>Y E S AND HE TOOK THE LONGEST HIT IVE EVER SEEN</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Russian Spy:</b>
  <span> Clint don’t you have your own mod?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>left it at home :,(</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>oof, good idea</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Here’s Brucie: </b>
  <span>I’ve seen him take a 20 second long hit before</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thunder: </b>
  <span>holy s h i t</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Falco: </b>
  <span>man’s is a legend</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal: </b>
  <span>he will go down in the history books</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Hawkeye: </b>
  <span>aw stop, you’re making me blush uwu</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Da Way: </b>
  <span>please kill it with fire</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky turned off his phone, closing his eyes and leaning his face towards the sky. He loved the summer storms, the wind not uncomfortably cold but creating enough of a temperature drop from the normal Cali heat that it was pleasant. The rest of the trip there was a blur, he and Clint talking about anything and everything that came to mind. They also drove by a cop and had to hide under the tarp in the bed of Steve’s truck, trying not to laugh too loudly. They somehow managed to get there alive, both of them rolling out of the car before Steve had even parked. They waited patiently behind the truck, Bucky grabbing his vape and breathing in as a cop rolled by their spot. Bucky held his breath, waiting for the cop to pass before letting out a coughing breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fiend,” Clint teased, Bucky shoving him in response before putting the vape back into his pocket. They waited for the other three to climb out of the truck before heading to the entrance, waiting outside the glass doors that led into the well maintained mall. It was a hot spot for the teenagers and young adults in the surrounding area, filled with cheaper but well known stores, a couple of recreational activities, and plenty of food options. When the majority of the group arrived they finally decided to head inside, heading for the nearest coffee store which happened to be a Starbucks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have a game where we try to come up with the best names,” Sam explained, walking backwards towards the store. Bucky was really hoping he would trip but his dreams were crushed as Sam turned around smoothly, continuing into the slightly dimmer store. Bucky looked over at Clint, who had gotten in line behind him. He saw the man fishing through his wallet with a scowl, looking between his money and the menu. He knew that was the look of someone who was trying to save their money, a face Bucky had known all too well, and walked up to the cashier when Steve left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi welcome to Starbucks! What can I get for you?” The curvy woman at the register asked, voice soft. Bucky smiled, confirming his drink in his head before speaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I get a venti vanilla frappe please?” He replied, the woman tapping something out on the register before looking back at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your totals coming out to five sixteen,” the lady responded after a moment, Bucky fishing out a twenty and handing it to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d also like to pay for the guy behind me,” Bucky said loudly enough for Clint to hear, who gave him a look of confusion and what looked like… guilt? The lady looked between the two of them before nodding, asking for his name. He gave it quickly before taking a seat on one of the softer chairs near the corner. He waited for Clint to order before motioning the man over. His face now blank. Bucky bit his lip nervously as the man sat down next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can pay for myself, y’know,” Clint hissed, voice low so the others could hear. Bucky kept his voice level in response, anger slowly seeping into the pit of his stomach. He was trying to do something nice and the man was being rude about it, something Bucky could never understand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never said you couldn’t, I just wanted to treat you. Besides, you said take you out to dinner first… right?” Bucky asked as he motioned to the store they were in, watching as the glow slowly returned to Clint’s eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think coffee from a Starbucks at eleven fifteen in the morning counts as dinner but I’ll let this one go,” Clint laughed gently, still looking slightly ridged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Also if you want to know why, I have a thing for paying for other people, I just like spoiling others… it makes me feel good I guess,” Bucky explained, playing with his slightly chapped lips. He watched as Clint nodded, words sinking into his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess I understand, I just don’t like people paying for me because it makes me feel like a charity case, y’know?” Clint replied, leaning into the soft gray chair. The anger in Bucky’s stomach was replaced with guilt. He saw Clint scratched the back of his head, opening and closing his mouth before chuckling, “how about I pay for shitty mall food?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky smiled, wanting to say something else but froze as a woman called out a name. “Stephon?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really Steve, that’s the best you could do?” Natasha rolled her eyes, earning a laugh from Bucky. The others snickered as the list of names got called, each one slowly worse then the last one. He had to admit that Pietro and Wanda had some good ones, going by Petri and Cosmo, but he was confident he had the name in the back, especially when-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“B- bukinan? Buchanan?” The lady called, the group laughing. Bucky stepped forwards to grab his drink, sliding the straw in and taking a sip. He wasn’t ready, however, when the lady calmly called out “Cunt?” Before faltering, horror plastered across her face. Bucky choked on his drink, grasping at the edge of the counter while wheezing. He heard Thor let out an ungodly loud snort of laughter, a rare but pure sound that led him into the point of no return. Clint walked up to the counter proudly and grabbed his drink, the others practically crying in laughter. It took them a solid ten minutes of tipping the lady and calming themselves down before they left the store, still giggling as they left. They wandered from store to store for a bit, trying on random outfits and buying a few clothes before they ended up at the large fountain in the middle of the mall, the skylights darkened from the ominous clouds above them. Bucky rolled his eyes when Steve clasped his hands together, gathering everyone’s attention.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright gang, it’s time for our tradition,” Steve smirked, mischief gleaming in his eyes as he waited for someone to take the bait. Peter, being the soft innocent child he was, looked at Steve in curiosity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What tradition?” He asked, earning a wicked, toothy grin from Steve. The veterans of the game groaned, shooting Peter a glare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, small child! I’m glad you asked! We are going to be playing manhunt!” The group muttered among themselves as Steve shushed them, continuing his rant, “the rules are simple, we have three taggers to begin with. Everyone else gets ten minutes to hide, and afterwards the taggers get thirty minutes to try and tag everyone. If you get tagged, you join the taggers, also known as the hunting team. After the thirty minutes are up, the remaining hiders, also known as the hunted, have to make their way back to the fountain and sit somewhere inside the circle without getting tagged. There is no hiding in the bathrooms, and if everyone gets tagged, the hunters win and don’t have to pay for anything and get a hundred dollars to spend wherever they want, but if the hunted win, those who “survived” get the same amount of cash, any questions?” He looked around the group as Sam’s hand slowly went up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we make it a rule that Pietro, Bucky, Clint, and I can’t be it first because that is really unfair to the hiders?” Sam asked, the group chuckling and nodding in response. In the end, Thor, Tony, and Bruce were chosen as the hunters, the rest of the group breaking off in different directions. Bucky was lost at first before getting yanked by Wanda towards a store with Clint in tow. She pulled them into an American Eagle, quickly taking Bucky’s size before buying woman’s and men’s clothes and pushing all three of them including herself into a changing stall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Change into these,” she commanded, Bucky knowing not to question a woman on a mission and changing into rather feminine clothing. It was a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized pink sweatshirt, hiding the bulkiness of his body. He looked over to see Clint wearing a black shirt with a gold chain and nice fitting khakis, a change from his loose purple shirt and ripped jeans. She handed Clint a black hat that he put on backwards before ripping off the purple bandage on his nose and attacking his face with concealer, hiding the angry bruising. “I see you have piercings, change them out for these,” she said quickly as she handed him gold hoops, her accent thick. Bucky quickly replaced his black studs with the hoops, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He almost looked like a girl, catching him off guard. “Oh you’re not done honey,” she replied as she grabbed her makeup bag from her backpack. “How mad would your mom be if she saw you wearing makeup?” She asked while trying to match the concealer to his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She wouldn’t-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good, don’t move,” Wanda snapped as she pushed him to sit down, Bucky raising his eyebrows at Clint in surprise. The man just shrugged as she did his makeup, applying a few things that Bucky knew because of his sister and a few objects which looked rather foreign to him. After a solid five minutes of her working feverishly she stepped aside to admire her masterpiece. “That should work,” she finally responded before stepping aside so Bucky could see himself in the mirror. He looked unrecognizable, his slightly feminine features now amplified to the point where he looked like a teenage girl. “Everyone saw us three run off together so they’ll be looking for two guys and a girl, not a couple on a date at the mall,” she explained as she pulled Bucky’s hair up into a messy bun on the top of his head, pulling a few strands down in front of his ears, “Bucky, how well can you impersonate a girl?” She asked, Bucky smiling in response. He had to play a girl in the play a while back because they were short on female students, the voice coming back to him naturally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does this work?” He asked, his voice rising at least an octave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect, from this moment forwards, you are Jenna and Frank, good luck soldiers,” she said gleefully as she shoved them out of the changing room, Clint immediately grabbing his hand. Bucky looked down in confusion before returning his stare to Clint who shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Play the part, right?” He murmured, Bucky shaking his head before guiding Clint’s arm around his shoulders, still holding the man’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve dated someone before, right?” Bucky asked quietly, voice still high. He saw Clint look at the ground with a sad look in his eyes and he frowned, staring at the man with determination, “well imma show how a good date should go,” he joked, Clint staring at him in awe. He didn’t know what kind of past that man had with dating but something about the sadness made him want to hug him and treat him right and show him a good time until his eyes were shining with joy again. Bucky saved that look in the back of his head as a reminder as he dragged Clint along with him, pointing at things in an obnoxiously high voice and laughing as they made simple small talk. Bucky watched in amusement as Shuri ran by them at some point with Sam and with Tony and T’challa on their heels. They dodged Steve at one point by diving into a photo booth, laughing as they chose a cheesy superhero filter and took photos together. The photos came as stickers and they both took one, Clint taking the one of them doing hand guns and Bucky taking the one with Clint laughing and Bucky staring at him. He didn’t know why it was his favorite photo, the smile on Clint’s face being so pure and full of life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only thing that seemed to dampen the mood was when they walked by a guy with greased back black hair, Clint faltering for a moment. “Hey Frank? What’s wrong baby?” Bucky asked, voice soft and concerned. Clint shook his head, looking like a beat puppy. Bucky got on his toes and placed a kiss on Clint’s cheek, catching the man off guard. He stared at Bucky for a moment before smiling, picking him up and spinning him, causing them both to laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Jenna,” Clint said as he put Bucky down, both still smiling, breathless. Bucky wanted to reach up and kiss the man before freezing, unsure of why the thought crossed over him. The moment passed as quickly as it came, however, as they continued their “date”, surprised when thirty minutes had passed, finding their way to the fountain and sitting down with noodles from a small noodle shop they found (which Clint had paid for) and a couple of shopping bags that made them look believable. They waited patiently to be spotted, noticing a woman with black hair sitting across from them smiling. It took Bucky a moment to realize it was Natasha who seemed to have the same idea as Wanda, her hair tucked back into a wig. She nodded before returning to her phone, pretending to be on her own. Bucky and Clint exchanged a quiet laugh before continuing their small talk, trying not to laugh as random members from their friend group walked by them in annoyance and confusion. “Should we give them a hint?” Clint whispered, Bucky nodding with a smirk. He pulled out his phone and turned the camera towards them. He felt Clint kiss the side of his face as he took the photo, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Clint leaned his head on Bucky’s shoulder as he looked over the photo, Bucky clicking a filter before sending it to the group chat.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>Thighs of Betrayal sent </b>
  <b>
    <em>onadatekindanervous.jpeg </em>
  </b>
  <b>to the chat</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Bucky watched as Sam slowly looked up from his phone in pure disbelief as he stared at Clint and Bucky from where he was standing. “You mother fuckers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end Bucky spent a lot more money at Spencer’s then he should have been allowed to spend. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry if the chapter is slightly rushed, work was busy and I wanted to get this updated</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>